Badlands
by theslytherinrose
Summary: A series of Lucissa drabbles relating to each track on Halsey's album Badlands.
1. Castle

**A/N: I enjoyed writing a drabble series following the themes of an album with _1989_ , and siruslypadfoot on tumblr suggested I try _Badlands_ by Halsey. I do not own the lyrics or song titles any more than I own the characters (so, not at all). **

* * *

**_01\. Castle_**

 _"I'm headed straight for the castle / They've got the kingdom locked up / And there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut"_

1997

She'd never imagined feeling like a prisoner in her own home, but the longer these cold faces attached to people with murderous tendencies remained like unwanted growths attached to her family within Malfoy Manor's walls, the more Narcissa realized exactly how trapped she had become.

Since moving out of her parents' home upon her marriage and even more so since the death of her father, Narcissa had discovered exactly how vocal she could become when she wished to be heard. She'd become accustomed to ruling the house alongside Lucius, elves and servants following her directions without question. The public had always watched the pair with what Narcissa had deduced as a blend of envy and resentment, and though she had been content with the life she and Lucius had made with Draco and wanted for nothing, it had been comforting to know that she could find a way to obtain anything or persuade anyone, if she tried hard enough.

The leaden feeling that appeared to have become a permanent fixture in her limbs and the perpetual state of silence she had assumed in the presence of the Dark Lord were almost as unsettling to her as the horrific things she'd been forced to witness within the walls of her own home.

Almost.

As the body of what had moments ago been a living woman—a Hogwarts professor—collapsed to the table with a sickening _thud_ , Narcissa tightened her grip on her husband's wrist, the gesture one of unified defiance as well one that both sought and offered comfort through the contact. Narcissa didn't dare turn her head to face Lucius as he turned his hand over on the arm of his chair to slip his fingers through hers. She was close enough to the Dark Lord to feel his gaze pressing her into the chair in which she sat, daring her to object as the immense snake crept past the edge of her vision in its pursuit of the professor's body, which was to be devoured at the Dark Lord's order upon the table where the Malfoys dined.

Narcissa kept her face blank, staring straight ahead.


	2. Hold Me Down

**A/N: Warning for magical torture by Cygnus.**

* * *

 _ **02\. Hold Me Down**_

" _Hold me down, hold me down / Sneaking out the back door / Make no sound / Knock me out, knock me out / Saying that I want more, this is what I live for"_

1971

A stair creaked beneath Narcissa's foot, and she froze, glancing back up the steps toward the bedrooms and not daring to breathe. Her hand tensed on the railing, and she watched the blackness on the landing, praying she wouldn't see a light flicker on beneath her father's doorway. Druella would've been enough of a problem on her own, but Cygnus… The thought of him discovering where his youngest daughter was headed shortly after midnight was enough to spur Narcissa forward and down the remaining stairs to the first floor.

As she ducked around a corner, Narcissa let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She moved through the darkness of her home, her gaze alighting involuntarily on the fireplace in the drawing room, and a shiver rocking her slight frame as her least favorite memory of this spot pushed its way to the front of her mind.

* * *

 _She'd twisted her ankle and fallen into the mantel—surely they couldn't fault her for that, could they? But as she glanced up from the shattered fragments of the antique serpent figurine that had belonged to the Black family for far longer than Narcissa had been alive, she recognized the look in her father's eyes as one of unbridled fury._

 _She barely heard his chastising words over the roar of her heart in her ears, but she felt the Cruciatus Curse land with perfect clarity, and she dropped to the floor beside the broken heirloom._

* * *

Narcissa turned away from the room and moved as deftly and silently as a shadow toward the kitchen and the door in the corner typically used only by the elf. She pushed open the door and stepped out into the balmy evening air, closing the door behind her.

Narcissa remained perfectly still.

The momentary silence was broken by her light gasp as arms wound around her waist from behind, and she allowed herself to relax slightly at the touch of lips against her cheek.

"Did they give you any trouble?" Lucius breathed into her ear.

Narcissa shook her head. "Let's get out of here."

Lucius shifted to take Narcissa's hand in his own, and he led her away from the house and into the night.


	3. New Americana

_**03\. New Americana**_

" _Survival of the richest, the city's ours until the fall. / They're Monaco and Hamptons bound, but we don't feel like outsiders at all."_

1972

Lucius watched her over the rim of his glass. He observed the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled just slightly when she smiled and the plumpness of her lips, which were that perfect shade of crimson he'd come to love so much on her. His sister was staying with a friend and his parents were away on business, and in celebration of the end of Narcissa's schooling, he'd invited her over to spend a few well-earned days alone together. He found he liked nothing more than the time they were able to steal in one another's arms, and he intended to utilize this time to the fullest extent possible.

Lucius leaned over to set his drink on the table in front of the chaise they occupied, and then he laid his hand on Narcissa's cheek, his thumb trailing lightly over her skin as he fixed his eyes on hers.

"As fascinated as I am to hear what happened with the giant squid," he breathed, shifting closer and sliding his free hand down her side to rest on her waist, "and I am, don't get me wrong… why don't we come back to it? There's someone else I'd rather focus on, right now."

He leaned close to let his lips just barely brush against hers, and he felt her shiver in his arms.

"You have my complete attention," Narcissa said softly. She pressed her lips to his, the gesture tender at first. Lucius's grip tightened on her waist. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss as he began to allow himself to release more of the passion he'd had to restrain while they'd been separated by her final year at Hogwarts and his increasingly-frequent obligations in the service of the Dark Lord.

Slowly, as their kisses became more desperate, Lucius shifted their positions, laying Narcissa down gently on the chaise and positioning himself on top of her as he began to nip and tug at her lips.

"Should we—go—to your room?" asked Narcissa breathlessly, her hands twisting into Lucius's hair.

He pulled back just slightly to take in the sight of her face. Her pale skin was flushed, her desire evident in her eyes. Lucius grinned.

"No," he said, running his hands along her waist slowly and resting them on her hips. "For right now, we are Lord and Lady of the Manor, and we can be wherever we like."

Narcissa smiled, and Lucius leaned in to capture her lips once again.


	4. Drive

_**04\. Drive**_

" _Your laugh echoes down the highway / Carves into my hollow chest, spreads over the emptiness / It's bliss"_

1981

The previous night still felt as though it couldn't have been anything other than a dream. After years of service and the constant fear that his best efforts wouldn't be enough to keep his master from taking out disappointment on those he loved, Lucius was struggling to understand that the fear was at an end.

The Dark Lord was gone.

He knew the Ministry would come knocking and interrogate him. Would they believe the story he'd formulated—that he'd been coerced into every action he'd taken through the Imperius Curse? He could only hope the influence he'd been working for years—even now, at age twenty-six—to build with the right people in the right places would help him.

At the sound of a bright, melodic laugh from down the corridor, Lucius paused in his pacing of his home. He followed the sound to the doorway of the nursery to find Narcissa standing by the window holding their infant son, who was giggling as he twisted his fingers into her long hair and pulled it into her face. Narcissa leaned forward to press a kiss to Draco's forehead and let out another laugh when he blinked several times in response.

As Lucius watched them, a smile broke across his lips. _It was all for them,_ he thought. _To keep them safe._

Perhaps things hadn't gone according to plan; the war had been lost, after all. But the man who had been supposed to ensure the safety of Lucius's family from their enemies had become dangerous in himself and had become, Lucius admitted to himself, more of a threat than the one they'd started out trying to defeat. Perhaps the loss of the war was what they'd needed to truly be safe.

Draco looked to where his father stood in the doorway and stretched out his arms. Lucius glanced from the boy to Narcissa, who met his eyes and smiled, and then he stepped forward into the nursery.

 _We're free._


	5. Hurricane

**A/N: Separation period angst follows. I'm working portions of "Trouble Is" into things to reintegrate them into my canon, and it's the only time period that works with some of these songs.  
**

* * *

 _ **05\. Hurricane**_

" _He says, 'Oh, baby, beggin' you to save me / Well, lately I like 'em crazy / Oh maybe you could devastate me / Little lady, come and fade me.'"_

1974

Lucius sat at the edge of his bed, refusing to look at the old, worn photograph in his hand. He knew exactly what he would see, if he allowed his pale grey eyes to search out the moving image he had clung to so many times before. It was harder, on days like this. Days when he knew she would've been here, if they had… If things had worked out differently.

He knew that if he turned his head a few millimeters to the right and looked down, he would be faced with the image of her—her hand waving to him with his ring glinting on her finger, her smile as bright as though they had been apart for years and seeing him again had brought light to her world once more.

Gods, how he missed that smile.

He folded the photograph and slipped it into his pocket. He wanted to keep her close enough that if he reached for her, she would be there, but far enough that he could still pretend not to need her. He lay down on the bed in the spot he had always occupied, the place that had been his long before her. But only a moment passed before the need filled him again, and he reached out to touch the cold, empty space beside him. The place that had once been warm, when she lay here. The first time he had awoken to realize that it had not been a dream—that she had actually been here with him and was still present when his eyes opened again, warm and beautiful and _happy_ —replayed tortuously in his mind just as it did each time he allowed himself to miss her as he lay here. Each time after that he had fallen asleep with her in his arms and awoken just the same way had been a miracle, as he now knew. He wished he had memorized each of them just as vividly. It had seemed then that the time would never come when he would need them to remember her.


	6. Roman Holiday

_**06\. Roman Holiday**_

" _I imagine the tears in your eyes / The very first night I'll sleep without you / And when it happens I'll be miles away / And a few months late / Didn't know where I was running to"_

1976

Narcissa awoke with a sharp gasp, cold sweat clinging to her skin. She felt Lucius shift beside her, felt his arms tighten around her and pull her closer to his bare chest.

"It's all right," he muttered. "Bad dream?"

Narcissa let out a sigh and allowed herself to relax a bit. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She closed her eyes and attempted to calm her rapid pulse. "You'd packed all my things and set them by the front doors. You'd decided you didn't trust me, after everything I've done, and you didn't want to wait around for me to hurt you again."

Lucius was silent for a long moment, and Narcissa kept her eyes closed until she felt his hand rest beneath her chin and guide it upward. She lifted his face to meet his gaze as well as she could in the darkness.

"Regardless of what your dreams may tell you," he said gently, "I don't feel that way."

"Why not?" Narcissa knew her voice sounded broken and more than a little desperate, but she couldn't help it—she couldn't escape the guilt coursing through both her waking mind and her subconscious. "How can you forgive me? I can't even forgive myself."

"You've always been a lot harder on yourself than you needed to be." Lucius sighed. "I understand why you left, Cissy. I do. Did it hurt? Yes. Do I think I could've survived much longer without you? No, I don't. But I'm glad you came home and that we have a second chance to build the life we want, and I'm not going to ruin that by holding against you something that I would've had no idea how to handle, either."

Narcissa's vision clouded as Lucius spoke and tears filled her eyes, and when a few slid down her cheeks, he leaned upward slightly and removed them with the brush of his lips.

"I should've told you about the baby. I should've told you immediately, and then when I lost him, I should've run to you and not away and—"

"Narcissa. Please."

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never wanted that."

"I know." Lucius drew her closer as he lay down again, and she wept into his shoulder. "And that's why I'm not angry. You were young and scared—you were a teenager whose parents had harmed you for far less than an accidental pregnancy. Could you try to believe me when I say I understand that and that I'm not the least bit upset with you? I haven't been in a very long time."

Narcissa nodded and pressed her lips to Lucius's chest as she attempted to stop the flow her tears.

"Thank you," she breathed. "I love you—more than anything."

"And I love you."

He trailed his fingers through her long hair and down her back, and the gentleness of his touch both calmed her considerably and twisted her stomach.

 _I don't deserve him,_ she thought.

"No matter what your nightmares tell you," Lucius continued, "that will never change."

Narcissa wrapped her arms around him tightly, allowing herself to breathe more easily as she felt the strength of his embrace and the comforting warmth of his skin against hers.


	7. Ghost

_**07\. Ghost**_

" _I like the sad eyes, bad guys / Mouth full of white lies / Kiss me in the corridor / But quick to tell me goodbye"_

1979

The swelling of the violins and the swirl of gowns crowding the floor sought to claim Narcissa's attention, but she ignored them. Her focus was solely on Lucius as he guided her away from their guests and out of the ballroom to the hallway outside. The red satin of her gloves separated their hands, but she could still feel how tightly he was holding onto her, and she knew something must be wrong.

The sounds of the revelers faded, giving way to those of Narcissa's and Lucius's footsteps on the polished wood. He led her around a corner and then paused beside the wall, reaching up to remove the black mask from his face. She lifted her free hand to pull the matching accessory from her own eyes—they'd had the two masks specially constructed to mirror one another and more fully obscure opposite sides of their faces for the event they were hosting for Lucius's birthday—and meet his gaze.

"He's calling," said Lucius flatly. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his grip on Narcissa's hand was tense. His reluctance to leave was clear in his eyes and the tight set of his jaw. "I'm sorry, if I'd known—"

"Don't." Narcissa shook her head and leaned up to brush her lips over his cheek. "Don't apologize."

"I won't let him keep me long."

Narcissa knew this was likely untrue; Lucius had as little say in how long the Dark Lord kept him occupied as she did in his being summoned away in the first place. She knew, though, that he wanted to return to her as quickly as possible, and so she nodded. She would try to believe his words because she knew he wanted to believe them, too.

"I'll be here," she said.

Lucius released her hand to wrap his arm around her waist and draw her closer, his other hand resting on her stomach and the very slight bump concealed by the tailoring of her crimson ballgown.

"I love you," he muttered, the warmth of his breath leading her lips to tingle for a moment before he captured them with his own.


	8. Colors

**A/N: Non-graphic nudity, suggestive content.  
**

* * *

 _ **08\. Colors**_

" _You were a vision in the morning when the light came through / I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you"_

1971

"Can't we just stay like this?"

Narcissa lifted her head from Lucius's shoulder to allow herself a better view of his face. She'd always found him handsome, with that sharp jaw and those grey eyes that seemed able to pierce directly through to her soul. There was mirth in those eyes, now, and as he lifted a hand to trail his fingers through her hair, Narcissa couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"Yes," she said, and she leaned down to lay a kiss on his bare chest before meeting his gaze once again. "For a while. My parents will send a search party eventually, but they shouldn't get suspicious for another day or so, at least."

"Where do they think you are?" asked Lucius with a light chuckle, glancing around the bedroom at Malfoy Manor to which he often affixed the word 'ours' when speaking with Narcissa. She'd never admitted the wave of blended excitement and belonging that surged through her each time she heard the word.

"Staying with Lenore," she admitted, lowering her head to rest on his shoulder once more and watching his thumb as it traced the back of the hand he held at his chest.

"And she'll corroborate that story, if they ask her?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes. Though I hope she doesn't ask for an exchange of information in return."

Lucius raised a brow, his lips curling upward slightly. "Information? About us?"

"I'm not certain she's convinced that we've actually done anything. She told me just last year she thought I was more likely to befriend the squid than to make love, at least before marriage."

Lucius chuckled and skimmed his fingers down Narcissa's back, and she shivered beneath his touch. He then shifted their position to lie on top of her, leaning close to trail his lips along her neck.

"Any luck with the squid?" he muttered against her skin.

Narcissa rested her hands on his shoulders and shook her head, smiling and finding it difficult to focus on speech as he kissed and nipped at her throat.

"I'd much rather invest my time in you," she said, pulling him closer.


	9. Colors, Part 2

_**09\. Colors, Part 2**_

 _"Everything is (blue) / And you're dripping like a saturated sun (sun) / Everything is blue (blue) / I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old"_

1980

Lucius's steps were heavy as he made his way down the corridor to his chambers. The halls were dark—the lamps had been dimmed hours ago, after Lucius and Narcissa had put their two-month-old son to bed and retired for the evening. When the Dark Mark had begun to burn, Lucius had been teetering on the edge of sleep, and he'd climbed out of bed and slipped into his Death Eater robes as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing Narcissa.

Now, he let out a pained hiss as he pushed open the door and the movement sent a jolt of agony through him. He'd tried to move carefully, but even the slightest pull of his muscles upset the gash that ran from the left side of his clavicle across to his right shoulder.

This fight had been far too close for comfort. Lucius knew he was lucky to have escaped with his life. It was that thought that kept his heart pounding violently even now that he was home, now that he was safe. He'd always felt invincible—even when he'd been injured in battle before, it had never been severely enough to warrant fear for his life. He'd never doubted that he would be able to fulfill the promise he'd made to his wife to return to her and their infant son. Tonight, though, when he'd seen the hatred in Sirius Black's eyes as he'd retaliated for a strike on one of his friends with a Severing Charm that Lucius hadn't been able to save himself from entirely, it had become apparent that this war was only growing more deadly by the day.

The bedroom was quiet and dark when Lucius entered. The French doors leading to the balcony were open, the curtains flowing in the mild breeze that calmed the August heat. A sliver of sunlight was visible in the distance—just enough to tell Lucius that he'd been gone for too long.

Narcissa stood in her nightgown beside the railing, clutching it so tightly that Lucius could see even at his distance that her knuckles were white. She must've heard his footsteps as he approached, because she quickly turned to face him. Her blue eyes widened the moment they landed on him, and a horrified little noise escaped her lips. Lucius was suddenly even more aware of the warmth of the blood that had seeped from his wound to cover his chest and saturate his torn robes, making them uncomfortably heavy.

Narcissa started forward. "I'll get my wand."

Her voice was soft and strained, and when her path toward the end table led her past him, Lucius reached out to pull her close and hold her to him tightly as he pressed his lips to her hair. He could feel her skin against his through the rips in his robes, and he knew his blood had to be spreading onto her body and her white nightgown, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of her.

"Let me get my wand so I can heal you," Narcissa said quietly, her voice thick and pained—he knew she was trying to hold back tears. She trembled in his arms.

"In a minute," Lucius muttered, his grip on her tightening as he closed his eyes. He tried not to imagine someone else—Walden, probably—entering the Manor at dawn to tell her that Lucius wouldn't be coming home. He tried not to envision her breaking, falling to the floor beneath the weight of his broken promise. He forced these thoughts from his mind and drew a long breath that didn't entirely succeed in steadying him. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too. And I wish I could strangle whoever did this to you." Narcissa's hands tightened on the front of Lucius's robes, and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"That's not necessary. Just having you to come home to is more than enough."


	10. Strange Love

_**10\. Strange Love**_

" _They think I'm insane, they think my lover is strange / But I don't have to f-ing tell them anything, anything"_

1996

 _Don't look at them. Don't do it._

Narcissa kept her eyes forward as she and Draco strode into the courtroom. She could hear the whispers and feel the stares of the people surrounding them, but she refused to turn her head or lower her chin.

 _Don't give them the satisfaction._

She took a seat beside her son and waited.

"What is she thinking?" muttered a voice from a few rows behind where Narcissa sat.

 _They know nothing._

"Who in their right mind would marry someone like that?" asked another voice.

 _They're mad._

"No one in that family's right in the head."

 _Don't._

Narcissa's hand twitched toward her wand. She forced in a deep breath and gripped the arm of her chair.

When the group of Aurors and dementors entered the courtroom in a mass surrounding Lucius, it took every ounce of self-control Narcissa possessed not to run down the steps and push her way to him and throw her arms around him and weep. She gripped the chair tighter and bit the inside of her cheek.

 _Don't scream._

Lucius looked up to the stands as the Aurors led him to the chair at the center of the courtroom. When his eyes landed on hers, Narcissa felt as though the floor had dropped out from under her. She saw him lying beside her as they talked until the early hours of the morning, felt the warmth of his arms around her waist pulling her closer and the soft touch of his lips on hers. She smelled the spice of his cologne and heard his laugh as they watched two-year-old Draco wobble on his feet toward them.

 _Don't scream._

" _I love you,_ " she mouthed, and for a moment before Lucius turned his head to face the man reading the charges against him, he smiled.


	11. Coming Down

_**11\. Coming Down**_

" _I found God / I found him in a lover / When his hair falls in his face / And his hands so cold they shake"_

1978

As she leaned against the alley wall, her chest heaving with her rapid breaths, Narcissa stared at the altercation taking place a few yards down to her right. Rowle had stopped trying to fight back, now, and the flicks of Lucius's wand that snagged and tore holes in Rowle's robes also left lines of red along his skin.

Lucius knew that the faint scar running along his wife's thigh had been given to her a few years earlier in an attack by Thorfinn Rowle, and so when he'd returned from the bar within The Three Broomsticks to find a drunken Rowle standing too close to Narcissa and attempting to touch her, Lucius hadn't taken well to the sight. Narcissa counted her blessings that the scar had been the only damage she'd sustained in the first disastrous encounter with Rowle—whom her mother had once attempted to betroth her to—and that Lucius had been with her this time.

She watched as Lucius delivered a hard kick to Rowle's side and then stood to his full height, rolling his shoulders backward and lifting his head to meet his wife's gaze. A lock of his long, white-blond hair had fallen into his face, partially obscuring his eyes from her view. His jaw was set firmly, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Let's go home, my love," said Narcissa quietly.

She glanced down at Rowle to find that his chest still rose and fell with his breath, and she was relieved, if only because it meant less trouble for Lucius if anyone had seen. Rowle's arms and torso were covered in lacerations, and Narcissa couldn't bring herself to look at his face. She stepped forward to take Lucius by the arm and guide him toward the end of the alley. After a moment, he slid his arm from hers to wrap it around her waist and pull her closer.


	12. Haunting

_**12\. Haunting**_

" _I was as pure as a river / But now I think I'm possessed / You put a fever inside me / And I've been cold since you left"_

1996

He still felt the warmth of her lips against his, if he tried hard enough. If he concentrated and summoned the image of their bedroom and her silk nightgown and her blond hair brushing against her pale chest as she turned over to smile at him, he could almost persuade himself that she was here. Then, inevitably, the thought would return.

 _I sent her away._

Then he would counter it on instinct.

 _I had no choice._

He refused to subject her to the dementors that made each moment a living hell as they replayed every painful memory he'd ever experienced. He couldn't put her through that. He knew they'd see many of the same things, and he had no desire to make her relive death and loss and heartbreak. He loved her too much for that.

As he lay shivering on the paper-thin mattress the Aurors had allotted him, Lucius ran his fingertips over the photograph that had come with his wife's latest letter. Narcissa smiled up at him from the image, radiant in her wedding dress. Beside her stood a much younger Lucius, who was also smiling with his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her much closer to him than propriety had dictated. This photograph had been their payment for allowing what had seemed like an unending series of somber-faced poses to appease their relatives.

After a few more moments of staring at the reminder of one of the most wonderful days of his life, he turned the photograph over to reread what Narcissa had written on the back.

" _I love you as much as I did when this was taken, and I will be here when you return and as long as I live._ "

He closed his eyes, clinging to the photograph tightly.


	13. Gasoline

**A/N: My goal is to get _Badlands_ finished within the next few days, so we'll see how that goes. Thank you very much for your support. Also, my friend _justforpractice_ and I have started a joint account, _LuciusAndNarcissa_ , where we're posting... you guessed it, more Lucissa. We would be forever grateful if you would check out the fics we've started over there. **

* * *

_**13\. Gasoline**_

" _Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me? / Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?"_

1972

 _Just focus on doing your job and ignore him. Maybe he'll go away._

Narcissa continued down the aisle and straightened her green-and-silver tie as she glanced into the compartments she passed. She had to admit that her duties overseeing the transportation of students to Hogwarts had been far more enjoyable the previous year. She would've much rather been on patrol with Lucius than trying to ignore the persistent advances of Thorfinn Rowle.

"He's not here, you know."

"Doing all right in there, Lenny? Odette?" Narcissa glanced into the compartment she would've occupied with her friends if her duties as Head Girl weren't keeping her occupied. She tried hard to ignore Thorfinn's voice from behind her.

"We're fine," said Lenore, glancing behind Narcissa and frowning. "Is everything—?"

"Yes. I'll be back when I'm off-duty."

Narcissa turned on her heel and started down the aisle once more, and when a hand caught her arm, she halted in her tracks, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh.

"Leave me alone," she muttered.

"Why are you wasting your time waiting around for Malfoy?" asked Thorfinn in an annoyed drawl. "You're going to spend an entire year without him at school."

Narcissa's heart sank with each word. She was having a difficult enough time dealing with the reality of being separated from Lucius while she finished her schooling without Thorfinn rubbing that point in her face. She'd already resolved to write to Lucius daily and to find a way to see him, whether it was permitted by the school or not.

"In the meantime, wouldn't you rather enjoy yourself?"

Narcissa heard Thorfinn's footsteps as he approached her from behind.

"It's not like he'd know."

She turned on her heel and pulled her wand from within her robes, flicking her wrist toward him in the same motion as she cast a nonverbal _'Petrificus Totalus.'_ She watched him fall to the floor and shook her head, and she turned away again and continued down the train.

 _If I get punished for that, so be it. Maybe he'll finally get it through his head—it's Lucius or no one._


	14. Control

_**14\. Control**_

" _And all the kids cried out / 'Please stop, you're scaring me' / I can't help this awful energy / Goddamn right, you should be scared of me / Who is in control?"_

1976

" _Crucio._ "

He'd trained himself to speak the word as easily as he might a request for more wine from the house-elf. Lucius had not started down this path with the intention of causing pain or enjoying its infliction. Now, though, when he'd been suffering so greatly for so long, the idea that he could transfer some of that pain to someone else was more than a bit appealing.

The man twitching and writhing in pain on the ground was supposedly an informant for the Order. Lucius was supposed to be interrogating him for information, but the man had yet to yield anything useful.

"Where are you keeping the men you've captured from our side?" Lucius demanded again for what felt like the tenth time.

"I didn't—I don't know where they—please, don't—" The man ducked his head and cringed, and Lucius's focus was drawn by a sniffle from the corner.

He'd forgotten that the man's daughter was still present. She sat against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest, her eyes brimming with tears.

Lucius thought of the nursery that had been decorated to welcome a baby girl and still hadn't been dismantled even though there would be no one to occupy it. He thought of the woman he had left at home, who was probably weeping for their loss as well as for fear for his safety while he was here torturing someone else's father for information the man likely didn't have.

 _What the hell have I become?_

Lucius lowered his wand and turned for the door.


	15. Young God

**A/N: Major thanks to my friend _justforpractice_ for writing this chapter with me. **

* * *

_**15\. Young God**_

" _He says 'Oh, baby girl, don't get cut on my edges / I'm the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon'"_

1994

Lucius linked his arm with Narcissa's as they moved toward the campgrounds, his other hand clutching his walking stick. He glanced from his wife to their son, who walked on his mother's other side.

"Fudge has invited us to join him in his seats in the Top Box," said Lucius, who leaned in toward Narcissa's ear to whisper the rest of his explanation. "He is quite the arse-kisser, being so desperate for funds and all."

His voice held a hint of annoyance. Yes, Lucius was thankful he had influence in the Ministry; it had been his life's ambition to achieve such a goal, and he'd done just that. He was happy to donate to the Ministry's various departments—he had the money, so why not? However, Fudge could be a downright pain in Lucius's arse. He was constantly nagging Lucius—in the most nonchalant way he knew how—in the hope of swindling as much money from him as possible. Fudge was beneath him; the Minister was too desperate for Lucius's taste. Still, Lucius had to remain close in order to keep his role in the Ministry, so he put up with the old bloke. Lucius and his family were able to reap the benefits of the donations, and for that he would not complain—today, those benefits included the best available seats at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Merlin's beard, Top Box? That's bloody brilliant," said Draco enthusiastically.

Lucius smiled at his son as he noticed the admiration apparent on Draco's features. "That's right, my boy."

"I'm still amazed by your father's connections," Narcissa told Draco, squeezing Lucius's hand.

Lucius shifted his attention to admire his wife in her long green dress. He'd noticed it on her at the Manor, but things had been so chaotic that he hadn't had the chance to comment. "You look absolutely stunning, my love," he said quietly with a smile.

Narcissa smiled. "Thank you, darling," she said softly. "And you look so very dashing, yourself."

Lucius smiled at his wife's remark as he continued to guide her and their son along the path. Before making their way to their seats, they planned to stop at the Minister's tent, where they'd been asked to stay with Fudge and his family. When the gates to the campgrounds were in sight, Lucius spotted two men dressed in rather ridiculous robes standing beside them. Lucius knew immediately that the two were trying to pass as Muggles. He sighed irritably; the idea was absolutely disgusting to him. The closer he and his family drew to the pair, the more he recognized one of the fools. It was Basil, a man who was employed at the Ministry and who had never liked Lucius. But as Basil held no power to harm him, Lucius had never cared much what the other man thought.

"Lord Malfoy," said Basil with a clearly forced smile. "This must be your family." He looked toward Narcissa and Draco, his unpleasant smile growing.

Lucius unlinked his arm from Narcissa's and slid it around her waist. "If you'd be so kind as to tell us where our tent is," he drawled, completely ignoring Basil's remark.

The sudden change in grip on his wife did not go unrecognized by Basil, and he began to glisten at the forehead as he quickly looked down at the scroll he'd been holding. Lucius surpassed the urge to grin as pride filled his being at the idea of succeeding in making the man sweat.

"Of course, Fudge's tent I see… yes, if you walk half a mile down, it will be on your right," said Basil, who motioned for them to go on ahead.

The group moved forward, and after they'd moved a decent distance from Basil, Narcissa shifted closer to Lucius. He leaned in closer to listen as she spoke.

"Dare I ask what that was about?" she muttered.

"Let's just say we have different ideas on what makes a wizard respectable and what does not."

Narcissa nodded. "I see."


	16. I Walk The Line

**A/N: Thank you for your support. I've enjoyed working with this set of songs and listening to a lot of Halsey. This is the final chapter.**

* * *

 _ **16\. I Walk The Line**_

" _I keep a close watch on this heart of mine / I keep my eyes wide open all the time / I keep the ends out for the tie that binds / Because you're mine, I walk the line"_

1977

Had she been asked a year ago whether she'd felt herself capable of something like this, she would've laughed at whoever had dared to ask. Now, though, when she'd spent so long with someone who saw her value and had worked to ensure that she saw it, too—now that she knew it wasn't wrong for her to hold her head high and disregard the opinions of anyone who didn't appreciate her for who she was—she knew she could handle this.

The wedding ceremony had gone flawlessly, and Narcissa had savored every moment and was still so delighted by the prospect that she was now officially spending the rest of her life as a Malfoy. She'd burned the memory of her first dance with Lucius as husband and wife into her mind, and at the moment, she couldn't wait to be done with what she needed to accomplish and return to his arms to enjoy the remainder of their reception.

She knew it was traditional to share a dance with her father, but she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of Cygnus's cold hands clutching hers and resting on her waist. Narcissa looked over at Lucius to find him dancing with his mother, though his posture was tense and he glanced at Narcissa every few moments, concern in his eyes.

"You made something of yourself," said Cygnus, drawing Narcissa's focus back to him.

It took every ounce of effort she could muster not to walk away from the man who had caused her so much pain since her childhood.

 _I already was something,_ she thought. _You just never saw it._

She plastered on a false smile and leaned close to her father's ear.

"After tonight," she said, "I never want to see you again."

Cygnus's hand tightened on Narcissa's, but she ignored it.

"You've done enough damage," she said.

Without another word, she stepped back and out of his reach, and she started for the guests clustered along the ballroom floor waiting for the bride and groom to finish dancing with their parents. After a few paces, Narcissa felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around quickly, prepared to snap at her father. Instead, she found that the touch belonged to Lucius, who pulled her close. His arms encircled her as he began to guide her across the floor in time with the music, and she closed her eyes to shut out everything but him.


End file.
